The Mechanical Man
by Roger Johnson
Summary: Detectives Viola and Ivan of the Pewter City Police Department were on Christmas holidays when an emergency called them back into work. They soon find themselves following a bizarre trail of clues to the heart of an unbelievable plot...
1. Chapter 1

Viola Isaacs entered the Pewter City Police Station at 7:13 A.M. on December 25th with a scowl on her face and a steaming cup of coffee in her fist. Behind her the snow flurried wildly. The sky was still black, pre-sunrise, although by the look of it the clouds would block out the sun all day anyway.

Although Viola didn't really celebrate Christmas, she still wasn't happy about being called in on what was supposed to be her vacation. With a sigh she dumped her messenger bag on her desk and shook her hair long, blonde to get the snow out. She was the first person to arrive, apparently, which was even more irritating, because she'd been told it was an emergency and she should be there as soon as possible. She'd skipped breakfast and taken her coffee to go for this. So where was the big issue?

She hung her coat up on the rack in the corner of the room, trying to peer through the frost on the window to see outside. Her hand drifted to the belt cinched tightly around her waist, subconsciously checking to make sure the six Pokeballs were all accounted for.

Giving up on the snow-covered window she drifted back to her desk and started to rifle through the papers sitting on top of it. She'd been at home for the holidays for three days and there were already reports and files to go through piling up. She didn't even know who had delivered these. As far as she knew, every officer had been off work since Friday. It seemed someone had snuck in during the weekend to do some work. Obviously someone with some severe workaholic problems.

Absorbed in sorting through the papers on her desk, Viola nearly jumped out of her skin when the front door slammed open. She stared with wide eyes as a form so buried in snow that it was indiscernible pushed its way through the door. The entrance way was momentarily filled with dancing snowflakes and Viola wished that she hadn't taken off her coat after all, as the figure fought against a strong gust of wind to close the door again. Once they were safely inside, with the snow (mostly) outside, the figure breathed out with relief and pulled its scarf from around its face.

"Morning, Viola," Detective Ivan Csaba said glumly. Viola didn't think she was the only one who wasn't happy about being woken up this morning. It appeared Ivan had not shaved that morning, judging by the dark stubble on his chin, although he had showered (thank god) because his brown hair stood up in messy spikes when he pulled his hat off. His tie was hanging over his shoulder and his suit jacket buttons were done up wrong. Viola couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey, Ivan. How are you? I'm guessing you're not a morning person?"

Ivan practically limped toward the coat rack. He looked more like he'd fought a long war than simply walked ten minutes from his house to the station. "Why do you say that?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. He sounded indignant.

Viola bit her lip and tried not to laugh at him again. "Come here, Ivan," she said, reaching out toward him. He dutifully shuffled into her grasp. She quickly re-buttoned his shirt, straightened his tie, and flattened down his hair. "There you go," she muttered, stepping back to give him a once-over. "It's not perfect, but it'll do. Hopefully. We don't want the boss-lady mad at you again, do we?" She smiled at him and steered him by the shoulders to his desk. "Try not to mess yourself up again, okay?"

Ivan groaned and let his forehead fall against his desk. "_Vi._ I am asking you right now, as a friend, in all seriousness: Why, why, _why_ am I awake right now. On Christmas morning. At seven A.M. Away from my elderly grandma. Who I am meant to be caring for. And keeping company. For the holidays. Which I am meant to be on. _Why._"

"To be honest, I have no idea, bud. I thought maybe you would know? But you're the first to arrive, other than me." Viola sat in her chair, slouching a little. "You don't think Chief Garrard called Allen and Zoey in, do you?"

"She better have," Ivan says gruffly, looking up for a moment to scowl. "I won't stand for this kind of cruelty. It's prejudice. It's evil. How could she get away with waking us up and not them? _We're_ the good guys. They're the ones who ought to be punished. Has everyone forgotten that they lost us the case last week when they contaminated the evidence? Or that they almost burned down the station? Or that they are the most irritating pair of morons on Earth? Or that we deserve _medals_ for saving those Pichus Team Rocket tried to steal last week! Or that –"

"I doubt anyone forgets any of that, Ivan. But just – do you really want to work with them? Do you really want to be in their presence at all on Christmas?"

Ivan sighed woefully, and put his head back on the desk. "No."

Before Viola could say anything else, the door flew open with another bitingly cold winter wind. Two people came into the room. They were both tall and skinny (so not Allen and Zoey; for while Allen was 6'2, he was also about the width on an S.U.V., and Zoey was skinny but also just barely tall enough to pass as a human rather than a gnome). Ivan and Viola both jumped to their feet and saluted like soldiers. For although one of the tall, skinny figures was a mystery, the other was undoubtedly their strict, stressed out, borderline-psychotic superior officer, Chief Inspector Zaida Garrand. They could tell it was her because of the smell of wet Mareep wool filling the office.

She kicked the door shut with a bang, her high-heel leather boots sending snow spraying in all directions. Viola and Ivan flinched subconsciously backward. She pulled off her soggy wool coat and practically threw it at the coat rack. Her mood was obvious. Viola and Ivan traded a look of sheer terror.

"Oh, good, you've made it," Garrand said loudly, her tone light, cheerful, and poisonously sarcastic. "I am so _delighted_ to see you. There is _nothing_ I would rather be doing than spending time with my two _beloved_ employees on this most special of _holidays_." The way she spoke in a tone that kept going high-pitched while her teeth were clenched together and growling noises were coming from her throat was… unique. She sounded like a woman on the verge of a mental breakdown. As far as Viola and Ivan were aware, she was. "I suppose you're just dying to learn a few things. 'Why are we here, Chief?' 'Where are our pals Zoey and Allen?' 'Who's your friend?' I can hear it all in my head, your horrible voices echoing over and over. Shut up! I'll tell you!"

She paused a moment to take several deep breaths. Neither Viola nor Ivan dared move. The other person in the room, still unidentified, seemed to feel the same way. He or she was completely impossible to discern underneath the winter clothing he/she had not yet removed. It was so still it was almost inhuman.

"Well, first things first, we've got a job. And it is important, and it can't be postponed, and if this mission is botched, we're all fired. Every one of us. That's reason one for the mysterious lack of Allen and Zoey. However, they're both also out of town. Apparently Zoey has a grandfather in Viridian City and Allen is studying ghosts in Lavender Town. So it's just us! And my new friend, of course. Come here!" She turned abruptly to the figure standing awkwardly by the door. He followed the command with a little hesitation. "Do you plan on going out again soon?" She asked him sarcastically, her voice a gross imitation of humour. The figure didn't laugh or move. Viola guessed it didn't understand jokes. Or maybe it was just terrified.

Okay, yeah, it was probably just terrified.

With a sigh, Inspector Garrard waved her hand at his clothes and said, "Take off your coat, your boots, whatever. Just try to get comfortable, I suppose, as you'll be here for a while." She turned away from him or her impatiently and looked Ivan and Viola over. "I don't know why you're not wearing your coats, though. You're not staying here. I need you down at the mayor's house interviewing witnesses and trying to figure out where to start looking."

Garrard span on her heel and started stomping toward her office, her hand drifting to the Pokeballs at her waist, preparing to let the creatures inside out.

"Wait!" Viola called, breaking out of her baffled stupor. "You haven't told us what our job is, what are we supposed to be looking for?"

Suddenly it seemed like the world was moving a little too fast. Garrard looked behind Viola to the person wrapped in a scarf, jacket, and hat. Except he wasn't anymore – and it was a he, and possibly the most attractive he Viola had ever seen in her life. And Ivan was looking too now, and things seemed to move in slow motion as the strange man turned on Viola's computer and sat at her desk, the wind picked up outside and started to shake the entire building, and a Nidorino came flying through the window, shattering the glass.

"Why, the mayor's daughter has gone missing," Garrard said, as if that was something Viola should have known without asking.

Neither Viola or Ivan has a chance to reply, however, as the Nidorino sends poison stings flying toward them without warning.


	2. Chapter 2

Time abruptly reverted to its usual pace as Ivan, despite his early morning fugue, responded first. He sent a Pokeball flying from his belt without a moment's hesitation, his shout of, "Blastoise, go!" nearly drowned out by the roar of a five foot tall monster woken from its nap being released into the room.

The poison stings ricocheted harmlessly from his rock-hard shell, leaving the humans in the room unharmed. It was rare that a pokemon out of the wild would attack a human head-on, but there wasn't time to worry about it. Viola performed two actions almost simultaneously, ever a master of multi-tasking. With one hand she sent a Pokeball of her own flying toward the battle, and with the other she reached out and grabbed the shoulder of the stranger at her desk. She pulled him into the safe zone created by Blastoise's huge shell.

"Leafeon, use Razor Leaf," She shouted, almost as an afterthought. A flurry of leaves rose on a sudden gust around the small, fox-like creature and launched themselves in rapid succession at the Nidorino. The intruder was knocked back by the attack, but poison-types were never greatly affected by grass Pokemon. Ivan would have to be the one to finish their assailant off. The Nidorino wasn't going to wait for the humans to coordinate their attacks, however. It launched itself at Leafeon with a vengeful cry, its eyes flashing with anger.

"Blastoise, block him!" It only took Ivan's Blastoise a shift to the right to get between Leafeon and the Nidorino. "Now knock him back with a tackle! Then get him out of here, hit him with a water gun!" Ivan's voice was strong and authoritative as he watched the battle from a vantage point to the left of all the activity. Viola was still crouched behind Blastoise's shell, although her head peeked out so she could see what was going on. The Nidorino was powerless beneath the jarring power of Blastoise's body slamming him backwards, and a well-aimed water gun sent the offending creature slamming back against the wall. It crumpled beneath the window it had burst through and did not get back to its feet. After a moment of waiting for any further signs of danger, both Viola and Ivan stepped forward.

"Thanks bud," Ivan mumbled to his huge companion. The Blastoise grumbled wordlessly at him in response, and the creature was returned to its Pokeball. Viola's Leafeon was returned to her ball as well.

The two detectives approached the strange Pokemon with caution, shivering at the cold air blasting in through the shattered window.

"That's exactly what we needed," Viola grumbled sarcastically. "More maintenance fees."

Ivan didn't answer. He was already leaning in to examine the unconscious Pokemon. "Looks like we'll need some gloves if we're gonna handle this one," He murmured, fingers hovering over the body without touching the skin. "Nidorinos have toxic coating on their skin. I guess you know that though, huh?"

Viola nodded mutely, and turned to grab a pair of rubber gloves from the cabinet at the side of the room. They had different pairs for dealing with different types of Pokemon – insulated ones for Lightning types, flame-proof ones for Fire types. She grabbed a non-corrosive pair.

When she turned back to face the room, however, she noticed something that stopped her from returning to Ivan's side to continue the investigation. The strange man who she had saved from the poison stings is still crouched in the place she dragged him five minutes ago, as if Blastoise's shell was still there to shield him from attack. When Ivan looked back, ready to ask her what the hold-up was, she simply gestured to the stranger sitting in the middle of the police station. They contemplated him in silent puzzlement for a moment.

Then Chief Garrard came bursting into the room, her huge and short-tempered Hariyama lurking in the background with a stern look on its face. "Why is it so damn cold in here?" She barked. She surveyed the scene with a frown on her lips. "What the hell did you guys get up to in the five minutes I left you unsupervised?" She asked, and the pressure in the room seemed to rise as her stress level increased. Before she could yell anymore Viola interrupted her tirade.

"Look at this, Chief. I've never seen anything like it. A Nidorino, apparently with no trainer, at least not one with it, attacked us unprovoked. It burst right through the window!"

There was a tense silence as Garrard looked from the window to the Pokemon and back again. Then she whirled angrily on the man who was still crouched on the ground and decided to let out a bit of her anger. "And what the hell are _you_ doing? Didn't I give you a job to do? Did you find something shiny on the ground? If I didn't know any better, I'd blame this random, unlikely Pokemon attack within the city on you. I mean, what are the chances that things start getting weird the day the new transfer from Saffron City arrives? Is that what you want me to think?" When she stopped shouting, the room rang with silence. The man on the floor did not seem to have any response whatsoever. "Get off the ground!" Garrard finally burst out. She turned on her heel and stomped back to her office. "I can't deal with this! Any of this! Just –" She turned to Viola and Ivan, the look on her face despairing. "Just get to the Mayor's house. Just do your job. We can deal with the rest of it… later. Some other time. We don't have time for this."

The door slammed behind her and the room filled with stunned silence. Then the nameless man got off the floor and returned to his seat at Viola's desk. He logged into the system and carried on like nothing at all had happened.

"Well. Let's get this guy into a kennel, then." Viola said. It seemed safer to follow the man's lead. Just deal with this later, as the chief had suggested. But things were definitely getting weird around the Pewter City Police Department.

With the Nidorino packed away, Viola and Ivan put their thick winter coats back on. They had dissembled an old cardboard box to temporarily cover up the broken window, and now they were standing in the threshold, ready to head out into the storm to get to the mayor's house. Viola hesitated before opening the door.

"Hey," she said, approaching her desk. The man sitting in the chair seemed to pause, hesitate for a moment. Then he looked slowly up at her. His eyes were unexpectedly blue, a colour that was strangely bright and surprising. His face was otherwise unremarkable. He had mousy brown hair that fell into his face, dark eyebrows, and a thin mouth. "Uh," something about his eyes unsettled her, made Viola less than coherent. "I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Viola Isaacs. And my partner is Ivan Csaba. Welcome to Pewter City. Sorry about the chief, she's a little…" Viola barely stopped herself from saying 'psycho.' "…bad-tempered. Especially when she's stressed. I'm sure she'll like you well enough once she get used to her." Doing her best to smile encouragingly, Viola stepped away toward the door again.

"My name is Ezra Eliot," said a strange voice, and it took her a moment to connect the fact that it was the strange man speaking. His voice seemed… Well, it just didn't suit his face. It was too deep, and there was a sort of other-worldly feel to it. Like he was talking from somewhere far away.

Silence reigned for a moment. Then Viola smiled slowly, and Ivan said, "Well, it's nice to meet you."

The two detectives stepped out into the winter wasteland that was Pewter City in December.


	3. Chapter 3

They arrived at Mayor Danforth Coppers's mansion at 9:30 A.M. Their cheeks were red, their noses were running, and even through their thick leather regulation boots their socks were wet. The residents of the mayor's house were not sympathetic. At first, they barely paid any attention whatsoever to the police officers. The general mood was obviously panic. A butler and a maid ran back and forth between rooms while a young boy cried loudly in the upstairs hallway. A heavily moustached man pounded on a door, his voice pleading for the inhabitant to open the door.

Finally, after several minutes a man ascended the stairs to the cellar. He was sweating profusely and clearly distressed. Upon seeing Ivan and Viola waiting politely in the foyer, he made a noise of relief and hurried over to them.

"Thank goodness you're here, officers. The place is in an absolute uproar. Mary's locked herself in her bedroom, the maid's got it into her head that the girl's just hiding, and she's got the butler helping her to look through the entire house. That leaves my brother, Rudolf, to try and convince Mary to come out, and it's all very distressing for poor little Carl, who doesn't really understand the situation. I've just been down in the cellar looking for the smelling salts – I'm terribly afraid that my poor wife has fainted in her room and we'll have to knock down the door." He breathed deeply for a minute, trying to calm himself. After a moment, he extended his hand. "I wish we were meeting in better circumstances. I am Mayor Danforth Coppers. I've always meant to stop by the police station and meet the fine officers of our city… but I never seem to have any spare time."

Viola and Ivan each shook the mayor's hand and introduced themselves politely. Then they launched right into the investigation. "We need you to give us a recap of the last twenty-four hours. When did you last see your daughter, how did you discover she was missing, where have you looked for her already?" Ivan asked the questions in a calm voice, wary of the mayor's distress. Viola had pulled a notebook from her jacket pocket and her pen was poised to write.

"It's all a bit messy in my mind, you know. I wasn't expecting this – I wasn't really paying attention… I should have, if I had she probably wouldn't be missing right now. Poor little Cindy, this is all my fault. How could I let her get taken from right beneath my nose?"

Ivan interrupted the mayor's guilty tirade. "Mr. Coppers, there's no way you could have predicted this. No one could have. Maybe we should sit down to talk? It might make it easier for you to calm down. It's very important that you try to be level-headed when you recount the events."

"Oh, goodness gracious, I've completely forgotten all my manners – I'm so sorry, officers, it's a shame we had to meet under these circumstances, it really is. Brandon –" the mayor reached his hand behind him and dragged the butler away from his search. "Brandon, stop this nonsense. Take our guests' coats. They're soaked through."

With their coats in the butler's hands, Viola and Ivan followed the mayor into a sitting room. They settled onto a floral-patterned couch that looked more like a museum piece than functioning furniture. The mayor sat in an armchair across a mahogany coffee table from them.

"Okay. I believe the first question was when the last time I saw Cindy. Well, she was at dinner last night, of course. We always eat dinner together in the dining room. We had chicken casserole, Mary made it herself. Her mother's recipe. It's very good, it's got little fried onions on top. I'm sure you two would love it. You should come over and try it sometime. We usually have it at least once a month –"

Ivan cleared his throat gently, and the mayor abruptly stopped babbling. "Mr. Coppers, please. When did you discover that Cindy was missing?"

The mayor fiddled with a cushion uncomfortably. "Well, it wasn't me who discovered she was gone… I didn't even realise she was missing. I feel like such a fool. I'm a failure as a parent. It was the maid of all people who noticed Cindy wasn't in her bed. I never check her at night, not even when I wake up early… Apparently Doreen, our maid, has been doing it since the kids were little. She was Cindy's nurse when Cindy was younger, you know. Practically raised her, I suppose. I'm starting to think I don't even have the right to call myself Cindy's parent. I should just sign the papers, make her Doreen's – she certainly cares for Cindy much better than I do…"

"Mr. Coppers. There's no reason to talk this way. There's no way you could have prevented this. It isn't reasonable to try and judge your parenting skills based on this. All you can do is cooperate with us as best as possible so that we can find Cindy as soon as possible. Tell us, where did you look for Cindy? Can you confirm that she's not anywhere in this house?"

"Oh, well of course I've looked everywhere. And Doreen and Brandon have certainly double and triple checked everywhere by now. I'm absolutely certain she's nowhere in the house. She's been snatched away from us… And there's evidence it's been a kidnapping, a ransom note. Placed on her bed pretty as you please. It's just sickening to know that some twisted person has taken my Cindy right from our house. They marched right into my home and took my daughter!" The mayor broke into sobs. Viola and Ivan exchanged a short look before Viola moved next to Mayor Coppers and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It's going to be fine, Mr. Coppers. We'll find Cindy. None of this is your fault, Mr. Coppers. We're going to catch the people who took her and they will be punished. Try to calm down, sir. It's best for everyone if we keep our wits about us."

Ivan nodded quietly to her and slipped out the door to examine the house. He did not ascend the stairs to the scene of the crime yet. He would wait until Viola had rejoined him for that. But the rest of the house needed to be checked for evidence that the girl had not faked this for attention, and for potential clues that the family had overlooked.

Fifteen minutes later, the ground floor had revealed no insights. Viola was crouched in the foyer, examining the carpet intently. Upstairs, the mayor had joined his brother Rudolf at the door to the master bedroom. "We're going to have to deal with that problem up there, aren't we?" Ivan asked her quietly, eyeing the commotion upstairs. Doreen the maid was nowhere to be seen, but Brandon and the young boy, Carl, had joined in the onslaught on the wooden door. Four voices called to Mary Coppers to come out. Ivan grimaced.

Viola straightened up from her crouch, shaking her head. "There are no strange footprints here. They all match up with Carl, Cindy, Doreen, Mary, Danforth or Rudolf. Then of course there's you and I. But unless the kidnapper found a way to stop his shoes from marking velvet, he or she didn't use the front door. Did you see any back exits?"

"There's an entrance to the kitchen, but it's padlocked from the outside. So unless the criminal locked the door behind them, they didn't use that way. None of the windows are open, but they could potentially all be exits. We'll have to check them out. But first, I think we better see the crime scene."

They climbed the stairs, ignoring the family feud going on around Mary Coppers's door for the moment. The two detectives had no trouble finding Cindy's room, as it was marked clearly with a colourful nametag. The door was open, but a Poochyena sat in the doorway.

"I supposed this is Cindy's Pokemon," Viola murmured. She approached it cautiously, wary of its temper in this time of distress. However, the creature barely reacted to her presence at all. His eyes rested on her for a moment before staring intently down the hallway right now. It was as if it was looking for someone in particular. Viola assumed it must be Cindy. "Can we come in?" Viola asked the Pokemon, her tone gentle and disarming. Once again its eyes flickered over to her. This time they stayed a moment longer, and seemed to evaluate the woman carefully.

After a tense moment, the Poochyena moved to the right to let the detectives pass through.

The room was unremarkable. It looked like the room of any other teenaged girl. Cindy was sixteen, and her bedroom was painted light blue. Her bed sheets were white with red flowers and neatly folded. Viola made a note to ask the mayor if folded sheets were normal for his daughter. The room was furnished with a tall wardrobe, writing desk, and office chair. There was a poster of the Elite 4 on the wall and several notebooks and papers strewn across the desk. A door indicated another room attached to this one, either a bathroom or walk-in closet. There was a window above the bed big enough to provide entry to a full grown adult. And there was a note on the bedspread, unassuming.

The detectives wasted no time in getting started. Ivan slapped on a pair of gloves and picked the letter up from the bed. Viola leaned in over his shoulder to read it with him.

_COPPERS – you should have been more careful. You've taken your most precious belongings for granted, and now you've lost one of them. Finders keepers! Of course, we're interested in tradesies. You've got something we want: power. And you're going to use it for our benefit, or you're never going to see Cindy ever again. We want 300 Pokemon. We don't care where you get them. We don't care what kind. We want 300 Pokeballs lined up and ready for pick-up outside the Pokecenter at 8:00 P.M. on January 1__st__. We know you can do this. And we won't take any excuses. We won't take no for an answer. If you're not ready, Cindy is ours. And you don't want to know what we're going to do with her. – SOME FRIENDS_

For a moment Ivan and Viola were silent, studying the paper. "Well, you took a writing analysis course once, didn't you?" Ivan asked Viola, handing her the letter carefully. "See what you can figure out. I'll check for clues."

Viola sighed. "You always get to have more fun than me," She said, taking a seat at the desk, shifting the papers there carefully.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: This chapter is so long, it almost killed me to write it. So many tiny details… so much formality… I'm super unused to writing in this style, especially the script-type interviews. If it's horrible to read let me know and I'll never do it again. If you're following this story, thanks so much. I genuinely love you to bits.

* * *

><p>Ivan catalogued the following details around the room: the diary hidden under the mattress held no signs of Cindy being angry or vindictive toward her parents. There was no mention of a plan to run away. The last entry was December 23rd, and the regularity of the entries, as well as their intimacy, suggested that this was a prized possession that would not be left behind if the girl had run away. There was a broken figurine of a Poochyena hidden under the bed – a sign of struggle that had been pushed out of sight. The papers on the desk revealed nothing: they were schoolwork and lists of Pokémon and where to find them that Cindy was apparently planning to catch. However, they were all headed with "Plans for when I turn 20…" so Ivan was unconvinced that they pertained to the current case. They couldn't be overlooked, but they didn't seem important.<p>

Viola catalogued the following details in the writing: the writer was aggressive and certain of their meaning, but the size of their letters indicated a lack of confidence or discomfort with the message or words used. The ink dragged in places, so the writer was going fast. This could mean that the kidnapper wrote the note in this very room, in a hurry to escape; or it could mean that they did not wish to dwell on the substance of the letter. Compared with the sheets of paper on the desk, the writing did not belong to Cindy, and the level of forgery required to write this note would be impossible to rush.

Viola was left with the impression that the kidnapping, or at least the ransom note, was a distasteful or uncomfortable action in the eyes of the writer. This could mean that there was either guilt or disdain toward their role. The other impression Viola received was that this note was not the original copy. Whether it had been re-copied from another sheet, dictated to a scribe, or re-written to amend mistakes, the note was not the first draft. There was also little chance that Cindy herself had written the letter willingly or otherwise.

After each had finished their investigation, they compared their findings. "It looks like there was an attempt made to hide the kidnapping…" Ivan said, frowning. "It doesn't make any sense, considering the ransom note. The only sign of struggle was shoved under the bed to hide it. The papers on the desk seem to have been placed the way they were to display Cindy's plans to leave eventually. It's like two different parties with different ideas were behind the whole operation. One of them wanted the ransom, and they're the one who enacted the kidnapping. They weren't too discreet; they smashed the statue and left their note in plain sight. But then the other one wanted to make it look like the girl had run away. They cleaned the place up, hid the evidence, set out the list of Pokémon. I don't get it."

Viola was frowning too. "The note sort of suggests the same thing. Whoever wrote it didn't seem too enthusiastic about what the letter said. It looks like they were just writing down what they were told to. Let me take a look at these papers Cindy's written about travelling…"

For a while there was silence except for Viola rustling the papers. After about five minutes she sighed, and set them back down on the desk. "I was hoping we could rule out the possibility of Cindy running away altogether – I thought maybe the Pokémon lists were a forgery. It would certainly fit the overall theme. But I've compared them to her schoolwork, and it looks like she really did want to become a Pokémon trainer and travel the world. Can't say I blame her, but it doesn't exactly help our case." Viola gave Ivan a wry smile. "Oh well. We've got plenty more investigating to do. We'll approach this as a kidnapping case, but keep our eyes open for signs of a hoax, alright?"

Ivan nodded. "Okay. We've got to interview the people of the house here. We need alibis and handwriting samples. You get first dibs. Do you want the mother or the father? The maid or the butler? The uncle or the kid?"

Viola sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was going to be a long day. "I'll take father, butler and uncle. You're better with women and children, after all, Mr. Charming. And I suppose I'm better with men." She looked glum at the idea of being admired by men, as if using her feminine guiles to get information out of people was a distasteful idea. In fact, she felt that way exactly.

* * *

><p><em>The father<em>

Detective Viola Isaacs: Mr. Coppers, where were you on the night of December 24th?

Mayor Danforth Coppers: Well, it was Christmas Eve. So I spent the evening with my family. Well, I was supposed to. But I've been so busy with my new appointment that I actually spent all evening doing paperwork in my study, and I didn't spend any time with my wife or children at all, except at dinner. And I wasn't in a very good mood because I've been so stressed. That's probably why Cindy's gone, I've been ignoring her and I probably snapped at her and she probably went with the kidnappers _willingly_ just to get some attention, poor girl! Oh, if only she knew how sorry I was!

V. Isaacs: Mr. Coppers, please try to keep your answers concise. Can anyone confirm your alibi?

D. Coppers: Well, my wife, and my son. Cindy would be able to, if only she was here. I miss her. I'm so sorry.

V. Isaacs: Mr. Coppers, please. Do you know of anyone who would target your daughter? Have you ever been threatened before?

D. Coppers: Pewter City is usually such a nice, quiet town. Nobody has ever been anything but kind to me. I've never been threatened by anyone. Who could do such a thing? I truly don't know who would want to hurt my poor baby.

* * *

><p><em>The mother<em>

Detective Ivan Csaba: Mrs. Coppers, I know that you're very distraught at the moment, but I'm with the Pewter City Police Department. Do you think you could let me in to ask a few questions? It could be instrumental in finding your daughter.

Mrs. Mary Coppers: Alright. [muffled noises; a door opening] Step inside, Detective. I'm not…I'm not quite ready to face my husband or his overbearing brother yet.

I. Csaba: Mrs. Coppers, can you tell me where you were on the night of December 24th?

M. Coppers: Well, I spent the day with my two children, Cindy and Carl. It was Christmas Eve, of course, and we usually celebrate together… Not religiously, but it's a time of year we dedicate to family. But Dan, my husband, has been so busy and stressed out lately that he didn't really have time to spare for us, so the children and I were making do as best we could. I made a lovely meal for all of us, which we shared, and even Dan was there. I… There's not much else. I went to sleep early, and when I woke up Doreen was at the door of our bedroom telling us that Cindy was gone.

I. Csaba: Can anyone confirm your whereabouts?

M. Coppers: Carl was with me during the day… I suppose Cindy doesn't really count right now… [her voice breaks] … I was with my husband all night.

I. Csaba: Mrs. Coppers, do you know who could possibly be behind this? Have you noticed anything suspicious lately? Anything out of the ordinary could be helpful.

M. Coppers: I…I don't think Cindy has a single enemy in the whole world. But being the mayor's daughter makes her a target, I guess… I haven't noticed anything strange or suspicious at all… Although until today I wasn't really looking. [a pause] There is…one thing. It's small but it seemed strange to me… Doreen, the maid… She told Dan that she checks the children every morning before they wake up… But that's not true. She's never done that in her entire life. I wake up before Doreen, and I know that when she wakes up she goes straight to the kitchen. She doesn't go upstairs in the morning at all. I don't know why she would lie about that though… or why she checked Cindy's room this morning… Unless she heard something… I don't know.

* * *

><p><em>The butler<em>

V. Isaacs: Mr. Higgs, where were you on the night of December 24th?

B. Higgs: I was given a day off for Christmas Eve. I live in the mansion, of course, and I don't have any family of my own, but I usually spend the day with a few buddies of mine at the bar down the street. We play a Secret Santa game of poker… I can explain it to you if you'd like.

V. Isaacs: Now is not really the time, Mr. Higgs. How long have you been working for the Coppers family?

B. Higgs: I've only worked for the Coppers since Mr. Danforth became Mayor. I come with the house and the position. So it has only been a month and thirteen days. The maid, however, has been with the family for many years. If you need a character reference for me, I can give you the contact information for Reggie Plumbach, Pewter City's last mayor. He can assure you that I have never kidnapped anyone, and am unlikely to start. [he laughs]

V. Isaacs: Mr. Higgs, this isn't exactly a laughing matter. Have you noticed any suspicious behaviour around the house or the Coppers family? A man of your position has a lot of opportunity to observe those around him. Have you noticed any changes in Cindy lately?

B. Higgs: I'm afraid I can't help you, ma'am. The family's a bit too new for me to know what counts as odd for them, and the mansion's the same as it's always been as far as I can tell. Well, actually, it's in need of a bit of maintenance. The cellar's getting very drafty… There may be a hole in the insulation. I should call an inspector to take a look at it.

V. Isaacs: Please try to stay on topic, Mr. Higgs. I'm going to need the names and addresses of anyone who can confirm your presence at the bar last night.

* * *

><p><em>The maid<em>

I. Csaba: Good morning, Ms. White. Please have a seat. Can you tell me where you were on the night of December 24th?

D. White: Mr. and Mrs. Coppers always give me Christmas Eve as a holiday, so I spent some time alone.

I. Csaba: So you were out of the house? Do you have anyone to verify your location?

D. White: Yes, I was out of the house. But no, I was alone. No one can verify that.

I. Csaba: I see… What exactly were you doing?

D. White: I went for a hike.

I. Csaba: In the snow? Wasn't it a little cold for hiking yesterday?

D. White: I wore long johns, Detective. Are you trying to imply something?

I. Csaba: No. I'm just trying to get my facts straight. How long have you worked for the Coppers family?

D. White: Four years.

I. Csaba: Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary going on in the family lately? Do you know anyone with malicious intentions toward the mayor or his daughter?

D. White: Well, to be honest, Cindy herself has been acting differently. Really, the only person I know who resents her father is her. He's been so busy ever since he decided to run for mayor, he's hardly paid her any attention at all. And she's always telling me about her dreams to become a Pokémon trainer… You've seen it yourself; she's got that big poster of the Elite 4 on her wall. Her parents don't seem to realise how much their daughter has drifted away from them. I clean her room, you know. I've seen the list she makes of Pokémon she wants and where to find them. I'm afraid this might all be an act of teenaged rebellion… Can we be sure that she didn't forge the note herself?

I. Csaba: Hmm. Did you clean Cindy's room this morning?

D. White: Of course not. With all the chaos going on, I haven't had time… And when I heard Mr. Coppers say he'd called the police, I didn't want to disrupt your investigation.

I. Csaba: So do you think Cindy made her own bed before she left?

D. White: No, of course not. The children never do, they leave that for me. I think she never slept. I think it's still made from yesterday morning.

I. Csaba: One last question. Mrs. Coppers told me you lied about checking the childrens' bedrooms every morning. At this point, I am much more inclined to believe her than you. Explain yourself now before you rouse my suspicions, Ms. White.

D. White: What?

[Note from Csaba's personal journal: _Her face is white and she seems shocked, like she's been taken by surprised. Her answer is flustered._]

D. White: I don't… I... I may have embellished my story a bit. I… I've been trying to convince Mr. Coppers to give me a raise. I know that this is not the appropriate time, but… The truth is that I woke up at about four in the morning… and I just had a bad _feeling_. I don't know if I just had a nightmare, but something felt wrong, and I couldn't get back to sleep. I got out of the bed and thought maybe I'd look around. By this time it was closer to five-thirty; I really did try very hard to get back to sleep, you know. Now I wish I hadn't. I realise that I was probably woken up by a noise… maybe Cindy leaving the house. Anyway, when I got out of bed at 5:30 I saw that Cindy's door was open, and she's always slept with the door closed, for as long as I've known her. So I went up to see if she was awake, too. But she was gone. There was just that mutt of hers… That's when I woke up the Coppers."

* * *

><p><em>The uncle<em>

V. Isaacs: Hello, Mr. Coppers. It's very kind of you to offer to help out your brother's family in their time of need. I hope you don't mind me asking you a few questions. First off, where were you on the night of December 24th?

R. Coppers: I was at my own home, and yes, I have people who can confirm it. There's my wife, my son Allan, and Reverend Jack Doiley, who was over for dinner and didn't leave until about midnight.

V. Isaacs: Very good, Mr. Coppers. I'm going to need contact information later to confirm, though. It's just protocol. Can you tell me if anything strange has been happening in the Coppers household lately? Has there been any suspicious activity? Do you know of anyone who would want to harm the Coppers?

R. Coppers: Well, my brother's a good man, Detective. But things have been different for a while… with Cindy… She's been visiting a lot lately. She comes to our house after school instead of going straight home. I thought she wanted to be friends with Allan at first, but she spent all her time with me. We talked about Pokémon – I used to train 'em, you know, still got my old crew hanging around the house. She loves 'em. She's been talking about going on her own Pokémon journey… She always said it would be when she was older… But a week or so ago she sort of broke down a bit. She started crying and told me why she always came to my house. She said her daddy don't pay too much attention to her anymore. Not for a while. Not just because he's been busy with being mayor, and before that with his campaign. She says he prefers Carl, and I told her that wasn't true, but she's convinced. It scares me, Detective. I never thought she would leave… I thought talking to me would be enough. But I should've known that an uncle's love can't replace a father's. I don't know, ma'am, but it looks to me more like a run-away than a kidnap."

* * *

><p><em>The brother<em>

I. Csaba: Hey, Carl. I'm Detective Ivan. I'm a police officer.

[Carl Coppers does not respond]

I. Csaba: Carl, do you know anything about what happened last night? Do you know where your sister is?

[Carl Coppers shakes his head]

I. Csaba: Carl, this is really important. Your sister is missing, and we're really worried about her. Did she ever talk to you about running away?

C. Coppers: No. She was gonna go get Pokémon when she was twenty, because that's when dad said she could.

I. Csaba: Do you think Cindy would obey your dad?

[Carl Coppers nods]

I. Csaba: Carl, do you think someone could have taken Cindy away?

C. Coppers: No one came in the house.

I. Csaba: How do you know that, Carl?

C. Copper: Fluffy woulda barked at them

I. Csaba: Is Fluffy Cindy's Poochyena?

[Carl Coppers nods]


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Short chapter, sort of filler? I've been down in the dumps, which makes writing harder to concentrate on. Oh, and for anyone wondering – Ivans last name, "Csaba" is pronounced as if there wasn't any C in it at all: "Saba."

When Detectives Isaac and Csaba leaft the mayor's house they found that during their time inside it had started snowing again, but softer. The flakes were huge and picturesque, almost too perfect and fluffy to be real. The two of them paused for a moment to turn up the collars of their coats and pull on their mittens. The air was crisp and cool, but the detectives were buzzing with new information and too impatient to share what they'd found out to complain about the weather.

"I don't think the father has anything to do with the kidnapping. He seems pretty broken up… And, if I'm going to be honest, I'm not sure if he's got the emotional stability to pull off a kidnapping. My interview with him was pretty useless. It's like he's living in a dream world where his daughter is still 9 and all she wants is daddy to take her out for ice cream and a movie. If only the world were so simple, Ivan. The world wouldn't need people like us." Viola started them off as they ploughed through the snow back along the trail to the station. Ivan jumped in at the opportunity afforded by the pause.

"Well, I found the mother very intelligent and collected. She was quite a good help. I don't think she can be implicated in the kidnapping, especially if her husband is ruled out. She told me that the maid was lying when she said that she checks the children every morning. Naturally, this was very interesting to me. If Doreen doesn't check the children in the morning, what tipped her off to the fact that something was wrong? Why did she make up a lie? It's all a very suspicious business."

"I agree that the maid is suspicious. She's been overcompensating with her 'searching the house.' You know that expression from _Hamlet_ – "The lady doth protest too much." If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was acting the way she is to draw our attention away from something."

"You interviewed the butler next, didn't you?" Ivan asked. He was teasing, and they both knew it. Now Viola was impatient to hear about Ivan's interview with the maid, but he was going to make her wait before telling her about it.

"Yeah, yeah, the butler's clean. He's got a solid alibi. I've checked it out already and everything. So he didn't kidnap Cindy personally. But he could be an aide… I'm not sure about him. Tell me about the maid now."

"Weeeeell, alright then. If you insist. First, she's got a completely empty alibi. Says she was hiking in the woods last night so she didn't get in until late, and no one saw her at all. Who hikes in the winter, I ask you? And I asked her, too. When I asked her who she thought might be behind the crime, she went on a huge, long explanation of why exactly Cindy ran away. She talked about the poster in her room, the notes on the desk, and the ransom letter. She claims she knows about all this stuff because she cleans the girl's room. I ask her if she had made the bed this morning, and she told me that she thought Cindy hadn't slept at all last night. Said she probably spent all night planning, or packing.

When I called Ms. White out on her lie, you should have seen how flabbergasted she was. She told me that she had a "feeling" that made her get out of bed early and check Cindy's room. It all seems _very_ shaky to me, and I think we ought to look into ol' Miss White's police records. I mean, if she's the only one who's still trying to make this seem like the girl ran away instead of being kidnapped, we may as well disregard what she's saying, right?"

Viola sighed. "Unfortunately, it's not that simple. Uncle Rufus thinks Cindy ran away too. He says Cindy's been pretty on edge lately, going to Rufus's house instead of her own home after school. She spends time with him only and talks for hours about Pokémon and sometime going to catch her own. And like that's not enough, she basically had a breakdown about a week ago, crying her eyes out because she was convinced her dad wasn't paying attention to her and liked Carl better. It seems pretty plausible that Cindy might run away if her emotions were that volatile. Maybe Doreen's right, maybe she didn't sleep. Maybe she knocked over her own statue by accident. Maybe she left her diary because she feels like she should have outgrown it."

Ivan stopped walking in the midst of this tirade, his face pinched by an unhappy frown. After a moment of thought, however, his countenance brightened, a complete 180 turn. "Vi, if she went to train Pokémon and become a master trainer… _Why would she leave her only Pokémon at home?_"

Viola blinked a few times. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I never even thought of that. Okay. I guess we're done with the idea that maybe she ran off to be a Pokémon trainer. That's a pretty big oversight, huh? I hardly even thought of the Poochyena at all. What made you think of it?"

Ivan smiled a knowing smile and tapped the side of his nose with a finger. "My last interview. It was with Carl. He only told me one thing: the Poochyena didn't bark. He said that's how he knew no one had taken Cindy. But you know what I think it means?"

"Of course I do!" Viola said excitedly, catching on to Ivan's train of thought. "The Poochyena knew and trusted the kidnapper." They grinned at each other.

"It looks like we may have to do a few more interviews," Ivan said, pulling out his notebook and impatiently batting snowflakes away from it as they fluttered down toward the pages. "So, the plan seems to be: do background checks, check in with our magnanimous superior, and… Will we continue with what we thought originally? Ask about gang activity around town?"

Violate thought about it for a few minutes, her brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Then she nodded. "We didn't give anyone at the estate a reason to be afraid of arrest. The people responsible for this crime need to keep it cool and collected until January 1st, or they won't be receiving any of their precious bounty. We've got just under a week. That should be plenty of time, right?" She grinned at Ivan, nudging his shoulder. They were both a bit tense; they had a girl's life on the line. But it wasn't a crime to smile a little. And Viola secretly knew that they would solve the case – after all, the good guys always win.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Viola and Ivan got back to the headquarters the tips of their fingers were numb. They hung their damp coats on the rack and stomped their feet to get the snow of their feet. It was strange to find the rows of desks empty, all but one computer in the room off. Behind the only active computer sat Ezra Eliot, looking like he hadn't moved at all during the few hours the two detectives had been gone. They shared a look, but their curiosity was secondary to their gnawing hunger. They wandered into the break room, accustomed to the routine they'd been following for the past two years, ever since their first investigation together. Ivan pulled the bread out of the cupboard and ingredients from the fridge to make two sandwiches, while Viola reached up to the second shelf for the coffee can. They worked in companionable silence beside each other, not speaking but occasionally nudging each other out of the way of a particular cupboard or utensil.

With their sandwiches on plates and coffee in mugs, they returned to the main room and headed toward their desks. A few steps away from hers, Viola stopped. Until this point, she'd forgotten that Ezra had decided to use her desk. She shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly as she tried to decide whether or not she should ask him to move to another desk. Ivan solved the problem for her by dragging a chair from a neighbouring desk and setting it beside his. When she raised an eyebrow at him, Ivan just shrugged. It wasn't worth disturbing the strange man over. After all, he'd probably settled in after a whole morning at Viola's computer.

When Viola looked at him, he didn't seem settled. His back was uncomfortably straight and his hand was held awkwardly on the mouse. He would spend several moments completely still and then move his arm in a sudden jerky movement as he clicked on a file or a link. Viola couldn't help but think that the guy was _weird_.

She turned away from him and sat in the chair Ivan had offered her, settling her food to one side and placing her notebook, pen, and tape recorder directly in front of her. Beside her, Ivan had done the same thing, although much of his space was occupied by his computer. He had already booted the thing up, and was chewing his sandwich thoughtfully while he waited for the screen to load. In the hand that wasn't occupied by food Ivan was holding his pen over his notepad. He seemed to be re-reading what he'd written in it. Occasionally he would underline a certain word. She could't make out what it was he was emphasizing from her position, and to be honest Viola was beginning to feel a bit left out. She didn't have a computer to use and she'd already been through her own notes four times, finding no pattern to underline or highlight. She cleared her throat to warn the two men she was about to break the silence.

"Ezra, there's a few names here that I need looked up in the database," Viola said, turning toward him. She flipped her notebook open to the appropriate page. "Are you able to do that? You're using my computer, or else I would do it myself."

It seemed to take a long moment for Ezra to turn his head in response. He nodded sharply, one movement down and another up again. It was as if he was fighting some sort of paralysis for control of his body. Viola suppressed at laugh; it made the guy look ridiculous. When his head came back up the speed and force of it made his hair flop from one side of his head to the other. However, being a professional she kept her composure, and with his assent she continued to give her instructions. "Okay, there are three names here that I need you to look up: Doreen White, Brandon Higgs, and Rufus Coppers. I need to know if any of them have a criminal record. I don't care what the charge was for, I just need to know that it exists. Sound doable?"

Ezra did another sharp nod. This time, Viola couldn't help the perplexed face she made at this response. Fortunately, Ezra returned to his computer before he had even finished his nod and didn't see her reaction. After staring at him wonderingly for another minute, Viola turned back to Ivan. Her partner had finished his sandwich and now his mug was in his left hand, while his pen continued to make marks in his notebook. Without looking up, he asked, "Do you really think the uncle's a possible suspect?"

Viola started picking at her own lunch, untouched up to this point. She made a face as she thought about her answer. "No," she said finally. "No, I don't think he's involved. But we can't just think these things. We need to be sure. We need to investigate every possibility." She sighed and dropped her head against the desk. "I'm getting massive headache. The sooner we find Cindy the better."

Ivan nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, you're right. But the more I think about it, the less I think there's anything we can get done here, other than the background checks, and Ezra's on that. He should be done soon, too. So I think we should go downtown, find out if there have been any newcomers to town lately. Ask about any increase in gang activity, you know? Because I'm not sure about you, but I'm definitely sensing some Team Rocket vibes surrounding this whole thing. Who else asks for a Pokémon ransom instead of a cash ransom?"

Viola nodded slowly, mulling it over. She leaned back in her chair, finishing her sandwich of slowly. "Well, if there had been anyone in actual Team Rocket we would have been alerted. But it could be a new gang? Rocket's been known to break off into different factions every now and then. Or could it be that some members of Rocket have finally realised that dressing like a criminal will make people treat you like a criminal?" Viola rolled her eyes. She'd dealt with her fair share of Team Rocket members in her day.

A small scuffling noise caught her attention before she could say anything else to Ivan. She turned around in her chair, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, looking for the source of the scratching noise. There, in the corner of the station, exactly where she and Ivan had left it that morning, sat the kennel with the Nidorino in it. She bolted to her feet in surprise. She'd completely forgotten about it. It looked like everyone else had too: there was no food or water in the cage with it and angrily headbutting the bars.

"We aren't being very good hosts," Viola said, her mouth twisting into a grimace. She fetched the non-corrosive gloves and two food bowls, one for water and the other for kibble. She slid them through a slot near the bottom of the cage, careful to keep well away from the angry Pokémon in case it got hostile.

When she straightened up, Ivan had joined her. They looked down at the kennel speculatively. "Maybe we should get on board with the Pokémon microchip system," he said thoughtfully. "Cerulean City has implemented mandatory chipping for all domesticated Pokémon. It means things like trading get a lot more complicated - you have to fill forms stating that the Pokémon has changed ownership. But in cases like this one, it would be really helpful. We could track down this guy's owner easily." After a few more moments of contemplation, Ivan stepped away from the cage and clapped his hands together. "So Ezra, have you found anything out for us?" He asked cheerfully.

The other man seemed shocked to be addressed, if the dramatic way his head snapped up was any indication. It was surprising he didn't get whiplash. "None of them have any records," Ezra said. For the second time, Viola and Ivan were startled by the deep, far off quality of Ezra's voice. After the surprise of it wore off, however, the disappointment started to sink in.

"None of them have anything?" Ivan asked, although he was aware that repeating the question made him sound petulant.

Ezra nodded in confirmation. "The three names are not attached to any criminal records."

Viola and Ivan shared a despairing look. "Well, thanks anyway, Ezra," Viola said glumly. The man nodded again in his strange way and immediately returned to whatever he was doing on the computer.

The two officers were silent for a short time, both thinking about the best way to proceed. Dead ends were not something any investigator looked forward to, although they were inevitable in every case. Viola was the first one to shake of the bad mood, stepping away from the desk she was leaning on and heading toward the coat rack. "Well, so we still have no idea who the inside connection was," she said, pulling on her coat. "We've still got plenty of time to solve the case. All we can do is keep pushing forward. And what better place to continue the case than scenic downtown Pewter City? Someone's bound to have seen something there, right?" She shook Ivan's shoulder gently, successfully dislodging the frown from her partner's face.

"Yeah, yeah, you're in an alright mood now, but you'll be singing a different tune after a few minutes out in the cold." Viola only laughed in response, pulling open the door to the police station. Ivan followed her out, and once the door was safely closed behind them Viola leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to Ivan.

"Look on the bright side, partner: at least we didn't have to deal with Garrard." Ivan brightened visibly, letting out a surprised laugh.

"Wow, I didn't even notice. Thank God you're here to make sure I don't take anything for granted."


	7. Chapter 7

Pewter City wasn't well known for its gang activity, or for any criminal activity at all. But the influence of Team Rocket stretched from Kanto to Sinnoh and beyond. If there's anything that's universal, it's the existence of selfish, greedy people. The Rockets are infamous for their usually over-the-top and far-fetched schemes to steal Pokémon. The motives vary. Occasionally a kid will stray from the path of Pokémon trainer, too intent to on "catching" them all and forgetting about the training part or the fact that it's meant to be a journey, not a heist. Other times, usually with older members of the organization, with the plan is based on profit alone.

Viola and Ivan considered themselves lucky to live in Pewter City, a place rarely harassed by thieves. The majority of the residents were children too young to own their own Pokémon and embark on their journeys, or their retired parents. Whoever had written the ransom note had been aware that despite the apparent lack of Pokémon within the town, the mayor possessed the ability to gather quite a large number of them. There were hundreds of breeders living in the vicinity of Pewter City, and even those who weren't under the political jurisdiction of the mayor would be hard-pressed to refuse his request for Pokémon. The mayor was the wealthiest man for miles.

Viola and Ivan wasted no time in their journey to downtown, motivated by a combination of knowing that the clock was ticking, and the fact that it was very cold out. Eddies of snow continued to blow through the streets although there was a lull in the constant precipitation that had begun the previous evening. When the two detectives stepped onto the main street they were not surprised to find the sidewalks (which were completely covered by snow and invisible to the eye) were void of the usual shoppers. Normally on Christmas business would continue as usual, lessened slightly but still bolstered by the town members who did not celebrate the holiday. Today citizens of Pewter City seemed to have opted for a warmer, cozier plan of action.

The detectives knew without speaking which store they both thought they should start their inquiry at. A sure-fire sign of Team Rocket presence in any area was people buying large amounts of Pokéballs and other supplies - or, just as often, these supplies being stolen. The bell at the top of the door jingled as Ivan and Viola entered the Pokémart. The clerk looked up, surprised, when they came in. Apparently it had been a particularly slow morning. He was even more surprised when he recognized his two customers.

"Good afternoon, detectives!" He said, stuck halfway between cheerful and cautious. "What could possibly bring you here on Christmas Day? It looks like you're on business, huh?" He fiddled nervously with the display beside the cash register as if he thought the detectives were there to investigate him. Viola smiled reassuring, while Ivan fell back slightly to let her handle the situation. It was a simple fact that men were more likely to talk to Viola.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Raider. How's business?" The clerk nodded and reported that everything was going well, although it was clear from his body language that he wanted to skip the small talk and get to the point. Viola didn't make him wait. "We've got a pretty big case going on right now - well, obviously it's important, or Detective Csaba and I would be safe at home right now," she said dryly. The clerk laughed. He seemed to pick up on Viola's friendly demeanor and reflect it. "So we're trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. We just need to know if you've noticed any unfamiliar faces around. We're especially interested in unsavory types, as the police always are. You haven't had any gangs hanging around here, have you? Has anyone been buying up large amounts of Pokéballs or the like? There been any attempts at shoplifting that have gone unreported?"

Viola had taken out her notepad and pen as she spoke, although her eyes hadn't left the shopkeeper. She was on the look-out for any telling reactions to her questions. The shopkeeper seemed completely calm, however. He shook his head slightly as Viola finished her list.

"No, I'm sorry, Detective Isaacs. I would have alerted someone if there had been shoplifting attempts, and any large shipments would have been entered in the logbook. I was just checking the log this morning, and nobody's authorized any large purchases since last month. I can't say I've seen anyone who's stuck out to me over the last few weeks. The last new arrivals I can think of who've stuck around were three folks who arrived almost a month or two ago. Nothing special about them. They weren't friendly, but they weren't engaging in rampant criminal activity, I can tell you that. Anyway, I still see 'em around from time to time. They eat at Mike's diner down the street a lot. He sees a lot more strangers than I do, he'll probably know more than I do."

Viola scribbled frantically in shorthand as she attempted to catch every detail the clerk offered. After she finished writing, she nodded. "That's helpful, Mr. Raider. Just one last thing then, and that's a brief description of the people you're talking about."

The shopkeeper bobbed his head eagerly. "Of course, of course. Well, like I said, there's three of them. A girl, medium height with orange hair she always wears in two pig tails. Then there's one guy, who's got brown skin and dark brown hair and eyes. He's the tallest of them, but I'd say he was only around 5'10. They look like they're just kids. The third one's the most memorable. He's one of those trend followers, dressed up as a Psychic with black hair and a black hood and white make-up on his face. I hear he's got ghost Pokémon. It doesn't surprise me at all." Mr. Raider nodded his head definitively at the end of his description. He didn't seem very impressed by the "Psychic" fashion.

Viola smiled brightly at him. "Thanks very much, you've been a big help," she said, snapping her notebook closed. She and Ivan turned and stepped out of the shop. As soon as her back was turned, she let the smile drop off her face. "I don't think that was helpful at all," she muttered to Ivan doubtfully. Her partner nodded in agreement.

"If they've been around for two months and haven't caused any trouble, they probably aren't going to. Especially if they're young. I hate to say it, but we may be at yet another dead end."

Viola shook her head with a frown. "No, we can't let that discourage us. It was our first stop. He's right, Mike sees more strangers. He also gets a better sense of what's going on around town. He hears a lot of gossip. He should be our next stop." The diner was only two blocks away. Crossing the street carefully (although, to be honest, with the lack of traffic they probably could have afforded to be a little reckless), the two detectives entered the diner. The place was pretty empty, although a family of four with two young kids were making enough noise to fill the whole restaurant.

The owner of the restaurant, Mike himself, was leaning against the counter chatting to his waitress Lilah. When the detectives walked in, the two looked up. They both smiled at the officers, and Mike called out, "Good afternoon! Are you two fine people here for lunch?" Viola and Ivan smiled back. They took seats on the stools at the counter, and Viola ordered milkshakes for the two of them. They'd just had lunch, sure, but you just don't go to Mike's Diner and not get a milkshake. It's unheard of. (Rumour has it even Zaida Garrard gets milkshakes at Mike's Diner. She won't confirm it, though.)

"We're here on business, unfortunately Mike," Viola said, once the waitress had left to make the milkshakes. Mike nodded sagely as if he'd known all along. "It's a bit of a mess really, is what it is, although I can't get more specific than that. I'm sure you understand. We're asking around about any unusual activity. You haven't noticed any troublemakers? People out of the ordinary? We can't be very specific, unfortunately." The waitress arrived with two milkshakes on a tray and Viola and Ivan eagerly dug in.

Mike hummed thoughtfully and tapped the counter. "There haven't been many new people around here lately. Travelers come and go. The only people who've stuck around are this group of kids. Three of them, a girl and two guys. Two of them come here a lot. The three used to, but I haven't seen one of the guys, a really pale kid who wears a black hood, in two weeks. They always take an away bag full of food, which I'm sure is for him. I don't know if he's sick or what, but it's weird. I've heard the other two talking. They give off bad vibes, detectives. That won't hold up in a courtroom, but it's been enough reason for me to keep away from them. And to warn my staff to, as well."

The waitress, who was listening from nearby, nodded her head eagerly. "Yeah, we always stay away from them. But that doesn't mean we haven't heard anything." She looked up at Mike for a moment, as if expecting him to cut her off. But her audience was listening intently. "They keep on talking about the third guy working on something - his name is Bertrand." She blushed, as if she had done something that she's ashamed of. "Ever since I first heard that he was working on something I started listening in on their conversations on purpose. I was just curious. They're always talking about their plan. A lot of the time they argue about whether it's going to work or not. And I heard the guy asking the girl if she was sure they could trust "the old lady." At first I didn't have any idea who the old lady was, but then she came in the other night and sat with them!"

Viola nodded eagerly, her pen flying over the lines of her notebook. Ivan butted into the interrogation. "Did you hear them mention anything specific? And can you give us a description of the woman who met with them?"

The waitress fidgeted under the attention. "Well, I didn't exactly figure out what they were up to. But they were talking a lot about Bertrand's Alakazam. They were worried about whether it would be strong enough. But I don't think they were talking about a Pokémon battle. I don't know. I think they knew someone was eavesdropping because they were always so vague." She paused, fidgeting once again. She looked up and met Viola's eyes, and the detective nodded encouragingly. The waitress took a deep breath and continued. "The old lady was... Well, she was old. She was tall and skinny with grey hair and blues eyes. She was wearing a black dress. I don't know, there wasn't anything really distinctive about her."

Ivan made a small irritated sound, closing his eyes as if he was in deep thought. Then suddenly his eyes snapped open and he burst out, "This woman, did she have a scar on her lip?" The restaurant went quiet as the family across the room all turned and stared. Ivan was staring too intently at the waitress to notice. Viola caught on to where Ivan was going with this question, and they shared a significant look.

The waitress was alarmed by the outburst. "Well... I don't know if I remember that well..." Looking at the eager face of Detective Csaba, who was now leaning over the counter in excitement, she bit her lip. "I think she did. I... Yeah, she definitely did. I remember because her lipstick was uneven around the scar."

Viola and Ivan both nodded in satisfaction and got to their feet. "Thanks a lot, you two. You've helped us out a lot." The two detectives left, their milkshakes half empty. Mike called out behind them, "I'm still billing you for those!" but the detectives had already rushed out the door and back into the winter weather.


	8. Chapter 8

"So, do you think it's a coincidence that the mysterious woman who met up with the plotting gang has a scar on her lip just like the maid at the mayor's house?" Ivan asked excitedly. No more dead ends, they now had a definite lead. Viola laughed, stretching her arms out above her head.

"I knew there was something off about her. It's weird though...If she's been working for the family for four years, why hasn't she acted before?" She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "We've still get a lot of investigating before we wrap this case up though." She pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes in thought for a moment. Ivan waited patiently for her to sort out the next step. After a few seconds, Viola opened her eyes with an air of determination and strode confidently across the road, knowing Ivan would follow close behind her.

They had only gone half a block before they were interrupted by a door opening slowly in front of them. A shaggy head popped out to look at them. It belonged to a man with long, dirty brown hair and an equally long and tangled beard. He was smiling brightly with yellow teeth. As they watched, another head, this one less human, leaned out of the doorway beside the man. It was an Onyx and the look on its face was almost as exuberant as its trainer's.

"Hey, officers," said the man. Viola and Ivan exchanged looks. They both knew Arnold well as the town hobo, having had to arrest him many times for harassing others with his outlandish speeches about conspiracy theories and his tendency to frighten people by jumping out from dark alleyways. He wasn't exactly mentally stable, and the community worked hard to help support him, making sure he had a roof over his head and a job. However, the detectives weren't sure now was really the time for an inevitably long and confusing chat with Arnold.

"I know what you're up to," the bearded man said, nodding and winking. "I've got info you can't afford to miss out on." Viola and Ivan exchanged another look. It wasn't uncommon for Arnold to try and help out with their cases. The problem was that usually he drew assumptions that were far-fetched and based solely on his so-called "hunches," and so far he had always been wrong. Arnold seemed to sense their doubt, though, because he held up his hands in placation. "Hear me out, guys, I've _seen_ some things. You gotta believe me. They dug underground, I saw it. They had a bunch of Pokémon working on it. They made a tunnel. I could hear them at night, tunneling through the Earth! They were going uphill. It was like an escape tunnel. I think they're going to use it as a quick exit route. That's what I think!"

Viola shook her head, frowning, ready to brush Arnold off and leave. They had actual work to do. But Ivan wasn't as impatient, and he was intrigued by what Arnold was saying. Sure, it seemed unlikely, but it wasn't unheard of for Team Rocket to do something drastic like that. "Who are you talking about, Arnold? Who dug the tunnel?"

Arnold grinned, pleased at the attention. "It was ghosts, man! They were ghosts. They're digging an escape tunnel so they can leave the city. I saw them myself."

Viola struggled to hold in a laugh, managing to reduce it to a strangled sounding cough. She motioned wordlessly to Ivan and began to walk away, leaving her partner to deal with Arnold. Ivan was unsure of how to proceed. "Oh," he said, articulately. "So...the tunnel was dug by ghosts...who had Pokémon?" He was already regretting his decision to pursue this conversation with Arnold. The other man was nodding his head eagerly.

"Yeah, that's right. The Pokémon were probably ghosts too, don't you think?" As Arnold bobbed his head up and down with an excited smile on his face, his Onyx copied the motion. It was a strange scene. Ivan sighed. It looked like Arnold was going to be continuing his losing streak in the arena of deduction. Luckily, he didn't have to find a way to tell Arnold this without hurting the bearded man's feelings because his Xtransceiver started to beep. Frankly, Ivan was surprised by this interruption. He hoped it wasn't his grandmother, who had been known to get herself into trouble and need Ivan to rescue her.

He excused himself to Arnold quickly, saying that he would check into the ghost situation. When he slid his Xtransceiver open, however, it wasn't his grandmother's face he was looking at. It was Chief Garrard's.

"Ivan!" she barked, her voice loud and jarring against the silence of the empty street. Viola heard it from all the way down the street and started to hurry back. "Ivan, where is Viola?" Before he could even consider his answer, the chief was already barreling on as if she hadn't meant for him to answer at all. "Ivan, do you have the new guy with you? That Ezra? Because he isn't here anymore. And I didn't give him permission to leave!" Viola arrived at Ivan's side in time to hear Garrard's question and she frowned.

"No, he's not here. Are you sure he's nowhere in the station?" She immediately regretted asking that question; the two detectives could see their boss's face darken with irritation. "I'm sorry, do you think I'm stupid? If I say he's not here, you'd better believe he's not here. Got it?" The pair of them nodded mutely, not daring to say anything that might anger Garrard further. "If he's not with you, and he's not with me, then I suppose he's effectively M.I.A. Postpone whatever you're doing and find him. Check his residence first, you know the drill. The sooner we get this figured out, the better. God, what else could go wrong today?" There was a short pause, and then Garrard promptly slammed her fist down on the table and said, "Well, you're dismissed! Go figure this out!"

The Xtransceiver went black, and Ivan slowly closed it. He and Viola stood on the sidewalk in perplexed silence as they tried to process the fact that the newest member of the force was already missing, on his first day of work. "Well," Ivan said, breaking the silence, "maybe that's acceptable where he's from. Maybe he didn't realise he needed to tell someone if he was going somewhere? Or maybe thought it wouldn't matter if he left early?" Viola made a doubtful face, but she had no possible theories of her own that made more sense. All she could think of was that Ezra had been kidnapped too, like the mayor's daughter. Of course it made no sense, but the disappearance was so odd.

The two detectives trudged forward to the snow, planning to check Ezra's apartment first and foremost, in case he really had just gone home. The feeling of elation from when they'd discovered the connection between Doreen White and the gang was gone.

-

Ezra's apartment was empty. Not just of any human life, but of any possessions, too. It looked like he hadn't been there at all since arriving in town. There was no furniture and a thin layer of dust covered the carpet.

After searching the apartment for any sort of clue, they finally gave up. With no particular goal to work toward next, Viola and Ivan took to wandering aimlessly through the city, checking every nook and cranny and asking any bystander if they'd seen the missing officer. By the time they returned to the headquarters, the sun had set and the two were exhausted. They had discovered nothing. It seemed that Ezra Eliot, newest member of the Pewter City Police Department, had disappeared into thin air. It was good that at least the press was on holiday. If they found out about this story they would go crazy with it.

Garrard wasn't happy with her top detectives' failure, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. In the end, the three of them went home dejected and perplexed. This case continued to get more convoluted and confusing with every new step.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day Ivan seriously considered not getting out of bed when his alarm went off. With all the problems they'd faced yesterday, he was pretty well convinced that today would be a complete disaster.

Then again, peoples' lives depended on him. He pulled himself out of bed with a sigh and set out on his morning routine.

Once again, when he arrived at the police station only Viola was there. Today she was seated behind her own computer, frowning. As Ivan unwrapped his scarf from around his neck, she started to speak to him. "I've been looking at Ezra's file, and it just doesn't add up. It doesn't make sense for him to just go missing like this." She makes a frustrated noise and pushed herself back from her desk. "Who knows, though? Maybe he'll show up for work this morning. Hey, if you're not planning on doing anything in particular, I thought we could try calling around to see if we can pinpoint where the gang is hiding out. Then we'll head over to the mayor's house to question Doreen again. Sound good?"

Nodding absently, Ivan slid into the chair behind his own desk and booted up his PC. The next hour or so passed in silence other than the two detectives typing on their keyboards and calling various businesses and witnesses about the possible whereabouts of three young ruffians. These phone calls were punctuated by frustrated sighs and neither Viola nor Ivan had to say anything for the other to get the message that they were both coming up short.

They were rudely interrupted from their work when the door of the station slammed open and Garrard stormed in. She did not look happy: her hair was drenched and plastered to her head and an ugly scowl was on her face. "I've been looking for him again," she snapped angrily before either of them could ask where she'd been - not that they would have. They knew Garrard didn't like to be questioned by her subordinates. "He didn't check into a hotel last night. No one in the whole city will admit to seeing him. This guy is way more trouble than he could possibly be worth." She stormed into her own office and slammed the door behind her.

"We're following three lines of investigation and so far two have come up completely short. Let's hope the third one goes better..." Viola mutters as she gets up from her desk with a defeated sigh. She turned off her computer and shuffled toward the coat rack. "Come on, Ivan, let's head over to the mayor's office." Ivan nodded and joined her in fetching their coats.

"Yeah. Give Garrard some space, try to find the missing link in this case. What other options do we have?" With their winter jackets wrapped snugly around them Ivan and Viola stepped outside into the cold weather and headed up the path to the top of the hill where the mayor's mansion stood.

When they arrived at the front door, the two police officers were surprised to find the house in a similar state of chaos as it had been the first time Viola and Ivan had visited. The butler was running from room to room, presumably searching for something, Rufus was trying to comfort Mary, Carl was sitting silently on the stairs looking upset, and the mayor was coming up from the cellar, panting and sweating. He seemed extremely surprised when he spotted the detectives in the foyer.

"You're here! I haven't even had a chance to place a call... how did you know we've had another disappearance?" He came to stand in front of them, faced flush from running up and down the stairs. Absently, he added, "There really is a terrible draft downstairs... Brandon really needs to find the crack down there."

Viola and Ivan were both beginning to feel the familiar sense of dread that came with discovering yet another dead end within this investigation. "Someone has disappeared again?" Ivan asked with a grimace. "Please, please tell me it wasn't your maid Doreen White. It would be so nice for at least one thing to go right in this case."

Unfortunately the mayor was already nodding. "Yes, it was Doreen! How did you know? Why do you look so upset? Do you know something? Is something wrong?"

With a deep breath Viola wiped the dejected look off her face. She placed a comforting hand on Mr. Coppers's shoulder. "We haven't received any further news about Cindy, and in this case no news is good news. But we have found out that there may be a reason to expect that Doreen has something to do with Cindy's kidnapping. I think if she's gone missing we can pretty safely say that she's on the run. We were hoping she would be here so she could help us find out where Cindy is... But if she's not here, we're going to have to find someone else who has information." Keeping the frown off of her face was difficult as she thought about the prospect of having to find a new lead after so much work.

The mayor was shocked. "Doreen? You think Doreen's the one who'd behind all this? But she's been working for our family for years! How could she betray us like this?" Viola and Ivan both shook their heads.

"We don't know, Mr. Coppers. She may not be the only behind Cindy's kidnapping, but she certainly is involved somehow. We'll contact you as soon as we have more news." With that, the detectives left the mayor's house in a considerably more subdued state than it had been in when they'd arrived. The family was left to wonder how someone they'd trusted for so long could hurt their family this way.

The walk back to the station seemed especially long with the air of gloom clinging to Viola and Ivan, and they suspected that the police station would be in about the same state they had left it in. Things were looking worse for this case than they had before. With a bitter smile, Ivan thought to himself that he really shouldn't have bothered pulling himself out of bed this morning. It didn't seem like things were going to work out, for once. It looked like the bad guys were going to get away and the mayor would have to pay the ransom of 300 Pokemon, and who knew what type of life the stolen creatures would have to go through at the hands of the criminals. Not to mention the fact that there was no way to be sure that Cindy would be returned home safely even if the ransom did get paid. Thieves weren't known for their integrity, after all.

They were very surprised when they got to the station by a few different things. For one, Chief Garrard was out of her office, a rare occasion, especially when she was angry. She also wasn't alone. A girl neither Viola nor Ivan had ever seen before was standing in the middle of the main room. She looked like she wasn't a day older than sixteen... and there was something very familiar about her. She was plain to look at, with mousy brown hair, an average height, neither particularly attractive nor particularly ugly. But she had surprisingly bright blue eyes.

Garrard rounded on the two detectives when they entered. "There you are. You'll never believe who this is," Garrard said, gesturing toward the girl. She let out a strangled-sounding laugh and announced, with sarcastic grandeur, "Detectives, meet Finley Eliot. She's here to find out why her brother hasn't called in the last few days."

Silence followed the chief's announcement as both Viola and Ivan took a closer look at Finley. She stared defiantly back at them. It seemed obvious that she was unimpressed with the fact that her brother, having left his hometown less than a week ago, had arrived in Pewter City and promptly disappeared without a trace. Exchanging a quick glance, Viola and Ivan then turned their eyes back to the chief, waiting to receive an explanation, or some sort of instruction.

Garrard shook her head. "It's supposed to be the holidays. Why is all of this happening now?" She asked nobody in particular, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Finley, can you tell us a little bit about your brother?"

Finley frowned. "Well, I don't know, he's really boring. He never has a girlfriend. He doesn't go out to party or drink and he doesn't have a lot of friends. It doesn't make sense that he would disappear. He doesn't go anywhere. He hardly does anything but work. I went to his apartment earlier today, and it was like he hadn't even been there. But that doesn't make any sense, because he was supposed to arrive four days ago! Where would he have been staying?"

"If he was supposed to arrive four days ago, why did we only see him for the first time yesterday?" Viola asked, looking to Chief Garrard for an answer. The chief shrugged her shoulders.

"He only contacted me yesterday to say he was in the city and ready to start work whenever necessary. It was a funny coincidence, considering how short-staffed we were yesterday." The room went silent as the three police officers began to re-think the situation. However, Finley was still out of the loop, and was not content to just sit idly by while the others ignored her.

"I need answers. I need to know where my brother is! Did you notice anything weird about him? Was he acting strangely? Because when I say my brother is boring, I mean in every aspect of himself. He talks slowly, he moves slowly, he types slowly. Was he acting weird?"

Viola was frowning now, thinking back to the jerky movements of Ezra Eliot she had witnessed yesterday. She bit her lip. It was hard to say what was strange when she had never met Ezra before, but from what his sister was describing, he may have been acting unusual. She nodded slowly. "He was moving really jerkily. Sort of like... I don't know, I guess I would compare it to the way a puppet moves. Yeah, it was definitely weird. But I didn't realise it was a reason for concern..."

"Still," Ivan interrupted, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we're still not any closer to solving this case. I don't know what to do next - all we can do, at this point, is review what we know and try to find something we've missed. Finley, we're going to try our best to find your brother, but I'm afraid we've got another case that takes precedence. Who knows, your brother's disappearance may be connected to two others we've been investigating. But we don't have any leads regarding Ezra's whereabouts, so right now our hands are tied." He sighed as he headed over to his desk and sat down with a sigh.

Garrard was watching him closely. "What do you mean, two disappearances? Last time I checked Cindy Coppers was the only one missing."

Viola, who had been lost in thought, was jolted back into the present by the chief's question. "Oh, we were at the Mayor's house following a possible lead... when we got there, we found out that Doreen White, the maid, has gone missing. However, we also have a witness that places Doreen in suspicious circumstances that have led us to believe that rather than being kidnapped, Doreen is on the run. If somehow we can find Doreen, it may lead us to Cindy." With a sigh matching her partner's, Viola sat at her desk as well.

Garrard, in a rare moment of empathy toward her fellow human, invited Cindy into her office for a glass of water and to talk more about her brother.

As the door closed to Garrard's office, Viola was hit by an idea. She snatched the phone on her desk excitedly, dialing the mayor's phone number as quickly as she could. From his seat, Ivan couldn't hear what she was saying. He was following his own advice, reviewing the case notes he and Viola had compiled over the course of the case. His pen dragged across the page as it descended down the lines of writing. He was interrupting in his musings by his partner, who had let out a triumphant noise and was calling out to him frantically.

"Ivan, get over here! Come look at this!" Obediently, Ivan moved to her desk and leaned over her shoulder. She had a police file open on a criminal named "Darla Whitman." She was tall with dark hair and blue eyes. There was a scar above her lip. Viola looked up at Ivan with a grin on her face, waiting for him to click. When he did, he returned her gaze incredulously, gesturing at the screen as if to say, 'are you sure?' Viola laughed happily. "This is definitely a younger Doreen White. I realised that maybe looking up her current name wouldn't be enough, if she really was a criminal. So I called the mayor and asked if Doreen had any Pokémon. She had four. I typed in the team combination to the database and a few names came up. But as soon as I saw this picture I knew - this is our girl. She was arrested when she was forty-seven. She was let out of prison when she was fifty-seven: ten years for a massive Pokémon heist and affiliating with none other than Team Rocket. According to her date of birth, she's in her mid-sixties now. I don't know why she's decided to go back to her life of crime, but at least for the first time in this case we're sure of who we're dealing with."

"That's amazing," Ivan said, grinning. "Good sleuthing, Vi. Now all we need to know is where all our friends are hiding... I feel like there's something we're missing. You know, the one thread that ties it all together. How do we get from a gang of young kids up to the mayor's mansion where the maid is plotting to kidnap the little girl? There's gotta be some way to connect the two..." He trailed off, thoughtful. He was on the verge of something, Viola could tell by the way he narrowed his eyes and stuck his tongue out slightly. He looked ridiculous, but it couldn't be helped. By this point Viola was used to Ivan's silly "I'm-about-to-solve-the-case" face. And she was actually quite fond of it, seeing as it always led to him solving the case.

Ivan's eyes snapped open and he laughed incredulously. "I can't believe it," he said, crossing the room to grab the white board that stood in the corner. "Arnold was right! For the first time ever, Arnold helped us solve the mystery."

Viola was flabbergasted. "Are you trying to tell me that you think ghosts kidnapped Cindy Coppers? I can't believe this. I thought that stupid face meant you were about to figure out this mess. But I guess you've just lost your mind. Okay, that's fine. I guess I can deal with finding a new partner. If we ever find Ezra, it can be him."

Ivan laughed. "No, it wasn't ghosts. Look, the clues have been with us all along. Here in your notebook there's this line where the butler mentions that there's a draft in the basement, and you tell him stay on topic. And we were at the mansion this morning, and we heard Mayor Coppers talking about the draft again. They both implied that it was a recent development, and neither of them knew specifically where it was. Why didn't we search the cellar? We could have figured this out way earlier." Ivan scratched his head and scribbled a few words on the whiteboard. "Okay, so what's our next clue? we got it from Arnold. We treated what he said as sort of mindless babbling. But what if he was right? What if someone's been tunneling through the city? That would explain the draft in the cellar. Someone's dug a tunnel straight into - and out of - the mayor's house. And the clerk at the Pokémart told us that one of the young guys had a ghost Pokémon. So in the dark, Arnold sees these dark shadows and some ghost Pokémon - it's not that far-fetched to think that he probably just got confused. A tunnel in the cellar would explain why we never found footprints leaving the mayor's house. The waitress told us that the gang was planning something big - and when she mentioned them talking about the Alakazam not being strong enough, maybe the gang needed it to move something - like a rock - with its telekinesis. It's all adding up - the tunnel is the connecting thread. Literally. So all we have to do now is find out where the tunnel leads. That's where the gang is."

He finished talking, dropping the marker back onto the short ridge that protruded from the white board. The board itself was now covered in scribbles he'd drawn while explaining his theory to Viola, who looked a little shell-shocked by the wave of information that had been thrown at her.

"Um, okay, then," she said after a moment. "I can't say for sure if you're right, but I guess the only way to find out is to check the mayor's cellar for ourselves."


End file.
